


Make Your Nest Strong

by Solrika



Series: Blackwatch Boys [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Misgendering, Trans Character, blackwatch dad gabe, genji needs a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 10:25:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7754086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solrika/pseuds/Solrika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recovering from trauma is hard. It's even more difficult when you're being rebuilt from the ground up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Your Nest Strong

**Author's Note:**

> Just as a note, I hc Genji as transmasculine and he appears as such in all my fics.

Genji hates the technicians, or would if he could muster up anything more passionate than a dull, resentful dislike. 

The Blackwatch nurses are alright–-they may not speak his language, but they smile at him when they’re checking his vitals and they make warning noises before they touch him. The Blackwatch doctors who have taken over his care from Dr. Zeigler also treat him as a patient worthy of basic dignities. 

The technicians who fuss over his limbs, though–-Genji _hates_ them. Finds the passion to do so in the middle of their examinations, where they strip him naked and poke and prod as they please. Grits his teeth and bites down the snarls when they roughly disconnect something to tinker with his shoulder joint. They talk around him and over him and he hates them, hates them all. 

Usually, he can stand it. The sessions are short and the Blackwatch doctors intervene once he starts trembling from the exertion of being upright. He gets a dull sense of satisfaction from watching them shoo the technicians away. 

Today is no different, at first: aggravating and infuriating but normal all the same, with the doctors checking in now and then to make sure he’s not handled too roughly. At the end, though, Genji catches a scrap of words–-

“…gotta hurry up, the damn doctors will be taking her away soon.”

For a moment, he’s stunned silent, and the next, he halfway expects the technician to just keel over dead. It’s the way it’s been since he was a child–-one of his mothers, or Hanzo, or a bodyguard even would step in and set the example and-– and no one is there to do so now. A few heartbeats pass, and the man is still standing. 

Genji’s throat is dry when he swallows. It makes a little click noise in the back of his head, and he fists his gleaming metal hands slow, careful. The dragon is a low roar thrumming in his ears. He wants, so badly, to kill this insignificant gnat. He is clumsy and weak but the man is soft and all Genji would have to do is lunge, get his hands around that neck and let the dragon loose. 

He stays still. He’s here only because he’s useful to Blackwatch, and he has no idea how far their patience extends. There’s no clan anymore to protect him. 

He lets the session end and gets herded back to bed by the doctors. His jaw aches from how hard he’s clenching it, and even though he can’t get nauseous anymore there’s still a sick feeling in his center. He wants to move, to get out and run, and he wants to huddle in his bed and never stir again. He doesn’t know what he wants-–

_that’s a lie. he wants his mothers. he wants Hanzo. he wants to be back home in Hanamura where he’s safe and loved and happy_

–-he doesn’t know what he wants.

Time drips, compresses. Genji allows it to slip past, too caught up in his own head to care. It’s not the first time this has happened–-the blink and it’s gone-–and at least it means he spends less moments thinking and aware. When he comes back to himself, the little clock on his bedside shows hours have passed. 

He’s still lonely.

With a little growl, he heaves himself out of bed. There are shirts, shorts, on the chair besides it, and he wrestles himself clothed. There’s no point in looking in the mirror to fix his hair–Genji’s lost the urge to look pretty, and besides, it’s all buzzed off anyway. Out of courtesy, he staggers into the bathroom and brushes his teeth. 

There’s a nurse waiting in his room when he reappears, scrubbing water away from his ruined mouth. He clears his throat, takes a moment to find the words in English, and rasps, “I would like to see Gabriel, please.”

The nurse blinks, opens his mouth-–

“I would like to see Gabriel,” Genji repeats, drawing himself up like he’s the little lord of Hanamura again. It works–-the nurse closes his mouth and nods, hesitating only to make sure Genji gets back in bed before hurrying off. 

The confidence lasts only a few more seconds, before Genji starts twisting the sheets between his fingers. Gabriel is a busy man. Genji is just one-– _asset_ , he supposes (the word feels sour on his tongue)–-among many. The kindness shown to him the few times Gabriel had visited is likely something extended to everyone. And here Genji is, imposing–-

A gentle knock on the doorframe startles Genji upright, blankets well and truly tangled in his hands now. Gabriel is just as huge as ever, brown eyes curved up in a gentle smile. “You wanted to see me, Genji?”

The sheets have caught in his finger joints. Swallowing, Genji tries to straighten his back, tries to ignore the sudden reflexive trickle of fear down his spine. “Oh-–Reyes-san-–I–” 

“I told you, Gabriel is fine.”

There’s panic clutching Genji’s throat. Not even the dragon can stop it from seizing him like a fox with a rat, shaking him until the affront of the technician pales in comparison to the threat of being cast out again. “I apologize,” he chokes out, “I forgot what I-–what I wanted to-–I forgot, I apologize.” 

Gabriel eyes him for a long moment, and then steps forwards. Genji can’t breathe, can’t think, and when he comes back to himself there are gentle fingers untangling the sheets from his hand-joints. Seemingly unbothered by the half-corporeal dragon snapping at his hands, the man says quietly, “You know, I have a couch in my office. Do you want to sit there until it comes back to you?”

“Until what comes back?” Genji asks, on autopilot. 

“Until you remember what you wanted to talk to me about, I mean.” Gabriel finishes with the sheets, carefully lifting Genji’s hands free. 

“I do not want to be a nuisance, I apologize-–”

“No apology needed,” and now Gabriel smiles again at him, brown eyes warm and gentle. “We all forget things now and then.”

Genji swallows, some of the trembling leaching out of his skin. “If it’s truly alright-–”

“It is.” Gabriel steps back just enough to let Genji stand, arm outstretched in case he tips over. “C’mon, I’ll show you the way.” 

By the time they arrive at Gabriel’s office, Genji’s too exhausted to be frightened. He tumbles gratefully onto the low couch in front of the single huge window looking out over the land below the mesa. Gabriel chuckles, tugging the blanket out from under Genji to spread it out over his shoulders instead. “Here, get comfortable,” he says, tucking Genji’s feet up on the couch and tossing him a pillow for his head. “I’ve got a lot of work. You can stay as long as you want.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” Gabriel smiles down at Genji, and even though his face doesn’t bear any resemblance to Genji’s mothers, there’s still something achingly familiar in the softness of his eyes. Genji shies away from it-–it’s too much, and yet he wants so badly to reach up and cling like he’s a little boy again. 

“You can ask to come up here whenever you want,” Gabriel continues. “When I said Blackwatch can be your new family, I meant it.” 

Genji suddenly loses the battle with his tears that he wasn’t even aware he was waging. Gabriel’s soft noise of alarm only serves to make the sobbing worse, and this time Genji can’t stop himself from grabbing at Gabriel’s sleeve in the vague hope that maybe it will keep him from leaving. 

“I’m sorry,” he forces out, not sure what he’s apologizing for, unable to tell whether it’s in English or Japanese, and maybe it’s Gabriel he’s apologizing to and maybe it’s his clan, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, _I’m so sorry_ –-”

“Oh, kid,” and Gabriel carefully kneels down, just as carefully pulls Genji into his arms. He lets Genji cry into his hoodie, lets him wind his fists in the fabric even though it will end up tangled with his finger joints again. “You’re okay, Genji. It’s okay.” 

Time compresses again, until Genji finds himself gasping out a last sob. Gabriel’s sitting on the couch now, Genji practically in his lap. There’s a big hand gently smoothing itself over the short, buzzed hairs on Genji’s scalp. 

Letting out a long, shaky sigh, Genji tries, “I a-apologize-–”

“Don’t have to.” Gabriel gives him a little squeeze. “You’ve been through a lot of trauma, kid. You deserve a hug and a good cry.” 

Genji’s not quite sure about that, but he’s selfish, so selfish, and he hasn’t been held like this since his mothers died. After a brief internal struggle, he just nods and allows himself to be comforted. 

He can’t mark the point where he slips asleep–just a brief awareness of Gabriel tucking the blanket under his chin before he falls under again. 

(Genji wakes, once. Gabriel is working at his desk, illuminated by the afternoon sun, plants arrayed on the wall behind him. There’s a familiar bonsai on one shelf, pot and all.

Gabriel is looking back when Genji flicks his eyes towards the desk. “Keeping it safe until you can take care of it again,” Gabriel explains. 

Genji nods, yawns.

“Go back to sleep, niño,” Gabriel says, eyes soft.

The dragon is a sleepy, warm, purring presence in the back of Genji’s mind. He yawns again, and obeys.)


End file.
